Please forgive any ooc-ness or mistakes. It's been a loooong time since I've read Ella Enchanted. (I also might have gotten some names wrong…)

PS. I'm thinking chapter 2 should just be a separate drabble. Just disregard it as part of the story, kay? 

PPS. The timeline skips around a bit, so be prepared.

PPPS. If anyone knows the name of the king and queen, let me know!

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Two Months After

Prince Charmont was not himself.

Two months after the balls, he was still seen tripping over the decorative vases that lined the palace hallways and wearing his shirts inside out. The dukes and courtiers noticed his strange behavior. His sister ran away in tears, bawling "I want Char back!" But the most concerned of all were his parents. Both the Queen and the King loved their son, and wished to see him back to his usual gracious self, not this stumbling zombie that assumed his form. Queen Daria worried the most. She had seen rumors and whispers, caught onto sweeping dresses, heard snatches in the air, and knew it was a vulnerable time for her son. She couldn't allow anyone to question Char's right to the throne, even as he was wandering aimlessly with vacant eyes. She was determined to make her son return, no matter what.

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One Day After the Ball

No day should be spent next to Mum Olga or Hattie, much less dreading the inevitable command of giving Hattie a foot rub and arranging Mum Olga's flowers so they were just so. I often fantasized what I would do if free of the curse. I'd smash the gnome-made vase the flowers resided in, and stay up all night laughing hysterically at Hattie's shrieks as she discovered a new 'treasure' nestled in her bed sheets.

In the end, it was just a dream. An almost hopeless dream, tantalizing as a tiny window set high up above a prisoner: it was too small to crawl through, yet still stirred hope. My only light in the gloomy mansion was Mandy. We chattered and laughed about inconsequential things, and in the kitchen, I returned to a shadow of my former self. Still, even with Mandy, I often wished away my hours, so that I might be myself without ceaseless demands and insinuations. After the balls though, when I was by myself, all I saw behind my shut eyes was the look on Char's face when he greeted the young blonde. I thought fate could deal me no worse cards.

I was wrong.

I followed Olivia to Mum Olga's bedroom, where she told the news. And then, the window high above me shut, washing me in darkness.

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Two Months After The Balls

"Dear husband, we need to talk. It's about Char."

The King looked up from his scrolls of parchment, in the middle of dipping the pen in the inkwell. The tiny laugh lines around his eyes had drooped. His whole frame collapsed inward, so he was not the powerful king of Kyrria. He was simply an anxious father whose son had gone figuratively missing. Sighing, he leaned back in the ornately carved chair and looked at his wife.

"Daria, I don't know what to say. Char is his own self, and a ferociously independent thinker. I was hoping he could work his problem out."

"Dear, I don't think that will work. He's already had two months and he isn't getting any better. He needs help."

"He is a prince. How could be he fit to rule over our people if he cannot even resolve his own problems? I know it worries you. God knows how many sleepless nights I have had."

"But Frederick, the rumors…they are already beginning to whisper…I do not want my son dethroned…." Queen Daria bit her lip, knowing she had gone too far.

"WHAT?!" The King roared, slamming his palms on the table. He rose up, a terrible light in his eyes. "NO SON OF MINE WILL BE FORCED FROM THE THRONE SIMPLY BECAUSE HE IS NOT HIMSELF."

The Queen rushed toward him, crying. But already the King had slumped back in his seat, exhausted.

"Daria…" he moaned, his head cradled by his arms. "What should we do?"

The Queen sat on the arm rest of the chair and hugged her husband, offering silent comfort. They remained like that for an immeasurable amount of time. Then The Queen stood up and replied, "Char must go away from the palace. We must protect him. Our citizens and palace staff cannot see him so disheartened and out of sorts.

Besides", she said, new hope bubbling in her voice, "It is time he went to Bast. Young princes do so every year, as part of the good diplomatic relations between Kyrria and Joring, like the trip to Ayortha last year. Maybe he can recover there."

The king nodded. He didn't mind being away from Char for a year, if it meant protecting the throne.

Char will get better, he thought. And then he wondered: what could cause so much heartbreak?

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One Day After The Balls

Mum Olga puckered her thin lips together, smearing the garish red color. Daintily, she set the lipstick tube back on the vanity and patted her lips to blot. She glanced disdainfully at me, and looked back into the mirror, preening very which way.

I was forcibly reminded of a plump spider that twitched the strings of its web to draw the hapless pray closer. I was the hapless prey. But at least I didn't wind up with daughters like Hattie and Olive, and a husband such as my father. A ghost of a smile flitted across my face.

Mum Olga turned and caught my smile. "So you still don't understand your position, do you, Ella?" Her girlish voice turned shrill and menacing. "I think I better rediscipline you in the art of respecting your betters. You must curtsey, Ella, when in the presence of your betters."

She waited for me to sink on my knees, complacent in issuing orders. But I had no intention of obeying.

"I'm sorry Mum Olga; I don't need to practice now, do I?" I batted my lashes for extra emphasis. "After all, I see no betters."

The spider was now a toad. Croaking hoarsely, Mum Olga seemed to expand twice her size with indignant air.

"Curtsey, Ella."

A direct command. The first ten seconds were manageable. I clenched my fists and willed my knees not to bend. The next fifteen seconds were worse. My head pounded and my previous bruise from Olive throbbed. The very air seemed to be against me, pressing down heavily with the sickening scent of Mum Olga's special blend of vanilla, cinnamon, and natural body odor. My stomach heaved. Good thing there was no breakfast. For the last five seconds, I was trying to distinguish from the three Mum Olgas in front of me. Panting, I dropped to my knees. It was instant relief. But not for my heart.

Mum Olga smiled, enjoying the entertainment I provided. "That's better dear. You're learning already." She began working on her hair.

"Ella, I placed you in the kitchen because Mandy had promised vigorous discipline. But did that happen? No. You have become more insolent than ever it seems…Hattie told me about a filthy rat in her bed. I feel now is the time to isolate you from the rest of the staff. We don't want your bad example spreading…" Mum Olga fixed a curl. "I've decided to make you an errand girl. Anything that needs fetching, you will retrieve. From the market, the butcher's, the dressmaker's. Of course, Diana, the laundry maid, will be supervising you. If you steal anything, I will know personally. Besides," she said happily, "having a personal errand runner is so fashionable now."

"No." The word was soft, barely audible. The world was tilting again. This was strange. No order had been issued, so why was my body shaking? I tried again, tried to save the light from the window high above me. "Mandy won't let this happen. She'll quit, Mum Olga. You'll never stuff your face with her cooking."

Mum Olga smiled smugly. "Mandy will stay. And do you know why? Because of you. She cannot bear to abandon her mistress's daughter. I will continue eat her cooking."

I stood there, shocked. I knew she was right. I was now consigned to a dog's life of fetching things. And without Mandy, how would I survive?

"Oh, and Ella? I think we should have a new name to commemorate your position. I think Cinders is the perfect name." Mum Olga laughed, a grating sound that filled the room.

I ran, her laugh echoing through the hallway and chasing me relentlessly until I pushed through gargantuan front doors of the mansion. The mansion sat on a hill like a hulking giant; I could see the whole bustling town spread across the land. It was a beautiful day. The sky looked like a dress I had once admired on my mom: a blue so brilliant it looked unreal and thin snow-white lace that spilled from her collar. Right on the steps, below the blue sky, I began crying. This was my new life.

At the palace courtyard, Prince Charmont looked up from his agriculture books, startled, certain he heard someone crying in his ear. The glass slippers flashed in his mind, and his heart clenched. I will not think of her, I will not think of her, I will NOT think of her….

tbc

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Well, R&R, guys~ (No, you dolt. It doesn't mean relaxation and rest. It means READ and REVIEW. Especially the last part. Why would I want you to rest?)

…Just kidding. Thanks for reading, guys!